


Fragile

by coffee_ksare



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bad Parenting, Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, he's such a sweetheart, kind of, please just love Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffee_ksare/pseuds/coffee_ksare
Summary: Leaders are strong, unwavering, and confident. Yet the last thing Akira ever is are those words.(Five times Akira falls apart, but no one is there to break his fall; one time Akira falls apart and there are people to piece him back together.)





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm Sullivan and it's been an awfully long time since I've been back. School is tough as always with piles of homework but I managed to write something. This was written for myself, majorly, because I relate to Akira's fan made character immensely. It was written to, I guess, cope with my own struggles that Akira and I both deal with. Anyways, hope you enjoy this one!

**I.**

The last day before the weekends, Akira is charged for assault. He recalls he was trying to save a woman from a drunken man. He could hear the high screams of the woman from blocks away ring in his ears. The louder it rang, the harder he ran through the dark, country streets, splattered with spots of brightness from the lamps. In front of a little bar, he saw a man attempting to hit on a woman. His gray suit was disheveled and unbuttoned and his pale, muscular face was bright red. Without a thought, Akira rushed in to separate the two adults. In the midst of the struggle, he could hear the man’s fit of rage and the woman’s distress muffled together. The next thing he knew, Akira was at the police station, wrists in cold, metal cuffs.

 The interrogation was a complete mess; his mind was blank as the officer contradicted every one of his statements with the testimony of the drunken man. Tears were dripping down his face and his sleeves were far too wet to dry any of them now. All he could see through his glasses were blobs of black and white due to the tears. The handcuffs were far too tight on his wrists and they slowly dug into his skin, blood leaking out and staining the metal. Akira’s criminal photo is not pretty with his puffed up eyes, red and glistening from the light. His horrendous photo is the definition of his entire charge and all that was running in his mind then were the frustration and the smell of alcohol practically dripping from the officers.

The day before he leaves his hometown, his friends bid him farewell at school, but nothing more. His parents leave a goodbye through a text message and a Post-It stuck on the dining table, then they leave for their business trip. At the train station, no one is waiting for him. Akira’s trip to Tokyo is spent in silence the whole way.

 

**II.**

On the first day of school, Akira exits the café, uniform worn properly and bag hung on his shoulder. He follows a brazen, blond haired boy after an encounter with a twin-tailed girl who he swore looked American. As he walks the narrow alleys, he hopes to arrive at school on time, but somehow they do not arrive at school. Instead, they stand in front of a gigantic castle, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. The blond and he run around the castle with huge, bulky knights chasing them with sharp swords. However, they end up in a jail cell only to see someone the blond calls Kamoshida with his guards. While Ryuji, whom Kamoshida addressed the blond as, hurls insults at the king, Akira could only pray the glimmering swords were not real. 

Ryuji was tossed and kicked at in a blink of an eye; Akira could not just oversee that and ignore. A voice inside his head rang clearly and a white mask with black accents appeared on his face. He pulled and tugged at the mask and blood flooded down his angular face. As the blue flames enveloped his entire body, a smile formed on his lips. From within him, a creature emerged. 

“Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name, and release thy rage!” The creature calls out to Akira, powerfully, with a command.

 Its deep voice silences all other sounds from him. “I am Arsene,” is all Akira hears.

 After an unfortunate mishap on his way to school, he flops on his makeshift bed built from multiple futons stacked together. His fatigue catches up to him and Akira can feel his brain shutting down. Akira pulls his phone out as he lies on his bed and stares. The bizarre app with the creepy eye practically pops up in his sight although Akira is sure he had erased it last night. As he stares into the app, the scene of his metamorphosis continues to replay in his mind like a broken record. He was dressed in flashy attire and he looked like some wealthy man from the Belle Epoque. The him in the strange world held himself full of confidence and charisma – the things he did not have in reality. The gentleman thief him who stood tall with openly broad shoulders could never be Akira of the real world. Akira wears boring black frames to blend in, he wears his annoying uniform properly and he walks the halls with his head down and hands bunched in his pockets. He could not dare to even think such façade could potentially be him.

It seems degrading oneself has become a habit Akira has created, but those thoughts refuse to disappear. They linger in his head like a layer of fog that hides all other thoughts – a filter to remind him of only the negatives. Now, Akira cannot seem to remember the last time he smiled so bright that he blinded people with a ray of confidence. Perhaps this moment now is the perfect moment to label ‘The Moment Akira Kurusu’s Self-Worth Completely Shattered.’ 

 

**III.**

The first couple weeks of school were not quite joyful. (Not that he thought it would be.) Whether it is when he walks down the hallways, inside the classroom at breaks or during lunch, he hears insults and rumors constantly spiral around him. None of the rumors are accurate and they are far too extreme for a high school student to pull. The only people who socialize with him are Ryuji and Ann; even then, Ann is reluctant at times to greet Akira when surrounded by a crowd. It is disappointing to witness Ann walk past him without a single glance, but he does not blame her – rather, he cannot. He understands her ignorance, so he simply leaves it at that and walks away. 

Ryuji, however, bounces onto Akira ever moment he sees him. He greets him no matter what with a shining smile. Everything about Ryuji is pure and golden from head to toe and Akira loves that part of him. He envies that Ryuji still retains his image as if he were a young child; he hopes that part of Ryuji never changes. But his childish air gives him a short fuse which never fails to rise when he overhears particularly horrid rumors and insults. He never minds any of the ones thrown at him, but when it is for Akira, it is an entirely different story. Akira is thankful, but he stops his friend immediately before he barks back at any of those comments. Retaliating is a waste of energy when it is fully invalid and obviously, talking back would change nothing.

Despite his front, the terrible comments remain in his head, unfortunately. Akira is human too, so of course, insults hurt even if they are all false. Those words dig into his heart and stay permanently, the wound never closing up. They insist on leaving a mark, forever etched into his heart, so he remembers for eternity. What if Akira was a delinquent? A dangerous student and someone no one wanted to be around? His brain said none of that mattered. Yet his heart cracks because, apparently, they did matter.

 

**IV.**

The moment the news explodes concerning Okumura’s father’s sudden death, Akira’s brain shuts down. Everyone else is silent as well while distress creeps into their faces. Eyes are wide from shock and nobody moves an inch. No one dares to speak a word about this unforeseen event and all their eyes slowly leave the television screen. A sharp breath is taken in by him and he opens his mouth to speak. Akira, to the best of his abilities, calmly states facts. The Phantom Thieves had already known about this risk. It was just never verbalized after the first time Morgana had mentioned it. Morgana confirms his statement in a serious tone and adds additional details on this topic: all that the Phantom Thieves did was steal the treasure, yet the CEO of Okumura Foods was declared dead. Without having to say anything, everyone understood how the facts did not add up. The café is silent for another two minutes or so until they started trickling out one by one. 

Upstairs, Akira is alone on his bed, staring into nothingness. He is left to question his and Morgana’s claim from minutes ago. Maybe the Phantom Thieves’ fiasco was not such a great idea. They were trying to save the world from criminals, but this had happened – something that was definitely not a favor to the world. Doubts began to pile and pile about the Phantom Thieves’ activities. The question of whether they were bringing justice or not was yet to be answered and Akira needed to know the answer now. 

 

**V.**

Akira and Akechi are not a bad pair. In fact, the two high school students get along quite well. They exchange greeting on the days they coincidentally meet at the train station and they often have coffee together at LeBlanc. Despite their good chemistry, Akira senses an ominous aura around Akechi – the type of aura one gets from suspicious people and those who you, somehow, just cannot trust. Akira, with all his heart, wants to trust Akechi, but he knows he cannot. He may not know why at this moment, but he just does. At times, Akira can tell Akechi is faking a smile and laughing out of politeness to others around him. The high school detective joins his fingers together, with his elbows on the table, when he tries to pry into a secret and he adjusts his, perfectly fine, stripped tie in fear of losing his façade or getting caught. Akira notices the more they interact with each other, but acts oblivious. He pretends those quirks do not exist, but soon enough, there will come a time when he cannot ignore them any longer.

Akira comes to realize that Akechi is indeed someone who will backstab the Phantom Thieves and leave. Morgana’s testimony on wanting pancakes was all the confirmation they needed to create a plan; the Phantom Thieves will fool Akechi to expose him of his indecent crimes. The night before Akira and his team carry out their plan is rough for him. The little pieces of his heart are incredibly tiny that they seem like dust at this point. Tears fall in the dead of night, as he clutches onto his shirt, at the thought of losing a friendship he had held so tight. His phone is lying on the floor with the bright red of the messenger screen lighting up the empty attic; Akechi’s profile is the only thing Akira sees. It seemed that no matter how tight he held, it would slip through his hands in seconds. Akira knew Akechi would come to hate him and the Phantom Thieves, but he hoped that somewhere inside him, no matter now little, Akechi thought that the times spent with him over coffee were the best times they spent together.

 

**\+ I.**

The casino plan is a success and the Phantom Thieves all return home incredibly late, but alive. Each one cannot stop their lips from curving up to a grin, but they all slowly fade away as time passes. Akira has yet to pop up in their new messenger group. No “Hey,” no “I’m back,” or anything – just nothing. Futaba madly punches the keys on her computer in front of the bright screen, hoping to find the location of his phone. Ryuji clutches onto his phone while sitting on the couch and drifts away to sleep, fatigue taking over him. Ann lies on her bed, boring her eyes into the ceiling. Haru continually sprays water on her crops until they are drowning in them; Yusuke drinks green tea to distract himself from all thoughts and Makoto drills pathways in her apartment floor from pacing the living room to the kitchen back and forth. They still hear nothing from Akira by the time their eyes refuse to stay open.

Akira groggily wakes up from a large, fluffy bed. His whole body aches as he tries to push himself up and he miraculously makes his way to Futaba’s room, crashing into every wall possible. When Akira asks Futaba for help, she sighs and does not question further. As Futaba aids him, no words are spoken between them. Just a block of empty silence floats. Later, Akira and Futaba make their way to LeBlanc only to see everyone else waiting, anxiously. All at once, they jump up from their seats with a gasp and millions of questions escape their lips. He is surprised at their burst of worries and profusely states he is fine.

Ann stares at Akira, arms crossed. “He’s wearing makeup,” she whispers under her breath.

Ryuji and Makoto overhear as they stood in front of her and glance at her and then back at Akira. The three see Akira’s face is layered with foundation and concealer that do not match his unusually pale skin. They see faint spots of blue and purple underneath the makeup, but Ann and Makoto dare not say a word about it. Ryuji, however, looks straight into Akira’s dull, ebony eyes, lips parted.

“Why are lying to us?” His voice is low, quivering right at the end.

Everyone freezes and stares at Ryuji; he can feel Ann and Makoto’s small glare burn his back, but he continues.

“You’re not fine. We know you aren’t. So why?”

Akira opens his mouth, but bites his bottom lip soon after, avoiding eye contact with Ryuji. Ryuji does not speak any further. The eerie silence pressures Akira to say something – anything.

“I _am_ fine, Ryuji,” is all he can muster without his voice cracking.

His friend in front of him shakes his head. “No you’re not. Stop, Akira. What happened to you at the police station?”

Akira’s whole body starts shaking, his head is hung down and his long, unkempt bangs hide his eyes. However, Ryuji keeps going.

“Akira, tell us what happened. You’re not _fine_! We know you’re hurt and you’re hiding the bruises underneath that makeup! Why won’t you jus-“

“Shut up!”

 Something inside Akira breaks open. The feelings he shoved inside the bottle burst open and there is nothing holding him back. Once again, there is silence and suddenly, the café turned ice cold. Before anyone spoke, Akira bolted to the washroom and only the sound of water running and splashes were heard. When he comes out, his bangs wet and face tainted with purple and blue bruises, it seems like everything is fine. Yet I reality, nothing is. No one dares to make even the slightest bit of sound from their lips due to Ryuji and Akira’s outburst. Ryuji draws back from Akira, shocked by his aggression, and his eyes flicker everywhere but Akira. The latter stands, leaning on one side of his body, trembling with his fists clenched hard. Although his ebony eyes are gleaming with tears, he refuses to let them spill.

Akira lied to his friends. He lied because he was their leader: someone strong, unwavering and confident. He was supposed to be the pillar of the team, someone they leaned on and was able to hold them when they fell.

Yet Akira could not remember the last time he was fit to be associated with such words. As he slowly falls apart in front of everyone, his voice is fragile and shaky. It cracks and he chokes on the words when he tries to suppress his shimmering tears. Ryuji is the first one to approach and pull him into a heartbreakingly tight embrace. Akira’s whole body trembles, but he realizes Ryuji’s is too. Nothing is said out loud, but Akira knows. He knows they are here for him and for once, he is not alone. Akira knows that these are the people who will take the time to piece his broken heart back together with their own pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Comments and advice are always welcomed. Once again, thank you and have a wonderful rest of your day or night.


End file.
